


Setting Out

by Lassarina



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lassarina/pseuds/Lassarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After receiving their l'Cie powers, Fang and Vanille set out to pursue their Focus.  Along the way, they learn some things about themselves and their newfound abilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Setting Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cakemage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakemage/gifts).



It can't be that the air is actually different when they leave Anima's sanctum; it just seems that way. Fang's always been comfortable in her own body, aware of what it can and can't do for her at any given time, and years of hunting have significantly expanded what her body can do. Now it feels like _more,_ like she's better than she was. The transformation has etched the knowledge of how to defend into her bones, and how to fight, and how to disable her opponents.

Beside her, Vanille is quieter. Fang stops and reaches out a hand, and Vanille's fingers twine with hers. Vanille's hand is small and cold.

"I'm all right," Vanille says, more seriously than usual. Fang nods, and squeezes her hand. Vanille squeezes back.

"We shouldn't go right away," Fang says, though their Focus burns hot on her arm and Vanille's leg. "No good if we don't know what we're doing. We should get used to this first."

"Then we'd better get started!" Vanille says, and she's shed that quiet demeanor. Fang wishes she knew if Vanille really feels better or if she's just covering it up; she thinks it's just Vanille covering.

The village is visible as a blur on the horizon; Cocoon is farther still. Fang adjusts the bag that holds their supplies.

She doesn't want to go home again. Their Focus won't wait forever, and the sooner they get started the better; everything that was most important to her about Oerba is right next to her anyway.

"Are you ready?" she asks Vanille, and she knows Vanille will know that she means not just getting started, but walking toward their Focus.

"We've got it," Vanille answers, and squeezes her hand.

They set off toward Taejin's Tower. There are just the usual beasts, and it's strange to realize that she can fight them now for the sheer joy of exertion, not only when she's backed into a corner and can't run. She almost takes off running to tussle with one of the wolves, but remembers Vanille and waits.

"Oh, all right," Vanille says, and laughs. "How else are we going to get used to this?" She gestures, vaguely, at her brand, and Fang wonders if it catches on Vanille's clothes. Her own wrap stays well clear of her brand, and she can still feel it throbbing. It doesn't _hurt,_ precisely, but she can't forget it's there. Maybe that awareness fades in time, like a wound that eventually heals.

She grins at Vanille and takes a firmer grip on her spear, and old habits have her circling around to hit the wolf from behind, for that little bit of advantage. As a hunter, that made these fights something she could win; now as a l'Cie, it almost seems unfair. One quick slash and she has the thing staggering, unable to keep its feet; Vanille's whirlwind knocks it clean over. Fang stabs it again and the beast goes limp. She's stronger than she expects to be, now; before, this would have been a long and potentially deadly fight. Now she barely notices.

She could get used to this.

She knows better than to get into pointless fights, and there's Vanille to think of as well. Fang won't risk her. So instead they make their careful way through Taejin's Tower, avoiding most of the beasts, but every one they fight seems to make her more comfortable in these gifts the fal'Cie has given her. (She isn't going to think about how nothing comes free, not now.) When they get to the bottom, though, there's a massive behemoth-like creature between them and the exit. Fang stops short; her instincts are at war with each other. Years of training as a hunter tell her to leave the thing alone; her new fal'Cie powers tell her she can handle it.

"Um," Vanille says.

"I've got you," Fang says firmly.

"Oh, I know—it's just _big."_ Vanille grips her wand more tightly.

"Different strategy," Fang says. "You soften it up while I protect you, and then we go to town."

"Got it!" Vanille grins, and there—that's what Fang's been looking for, that enthusiastic willingness to throw herself into any situation.

She catches Vanille tight against her and gives her a thorough kiss, then lets her go and turns to face the behemoth.

She sets her feet and braces with her spear, and takes the beast's claws right on the haft of it. The impact radiates up into her shoulders and nearly makes her lose her grip; this thing is _powerful._ Behind her, she can hear Vanille's excited little cries each time a spell takes; the behemoth slows, and Vanille says "Let's try a different approach!" and Fang grins fiercely.

Vanille's air and water spells rain down around her, little reflected droplets spraying cool and refreshing across her face. She herself is a blur of strikes, working to keep it distracted while Vanille calls for more magic. There's a rhythm here, she realizes; they work well together in this.

Vanille finally knocks it off balance and Fang pounces, her spear stabbing down quickly. The monster howls and lashes out, its clawed paw taking a sizable chunk out of her leg. Fang shouts in fury and hits it again. The wound puts her off balance, but she can't waste the time while the beast is struggling. "Hit it harder, Vanille!" she shouts, and strikes again. Water pours down, and Fang dances out of its way as best she can, doing her best to take out one of the beast's legs in retaliation.

It climbs back to its feet, and Fang sets herself on the defense once again. Vanille's healing spell washes over her in soothing relief, and then it's the same pattern again, trying to take it out before it can get itself upright on two feet.

They manage it, barely, but Fang takes several more punishing blows trying to stay between it and Vanille. When it dies they stagger past it, to make camp in the canyon beyond.

Fang can feel the fatigue setting in; that beast was not really something they were equipped to handle at this point. She makes herself stay on her feet and build a small fire out of fallen trees and dead grasses while Vanille watches her worriedly. "Fang, you should let me heal you," she says.

"Just going to get this done," Fang says, and gets the last of the sticks in place. Her hands are starting to shake and that makes the flint really hard to manage, but eventually she strikes a spark and it catches.

Even determination won't keep her on her feet after that, and she sits down heavily. Vanille's there immediately, her cool hands soothing on Fang's skin.

"You should've let me help you," she chides, and Fang doesn't hear the next thing she says because blue light flares from her hands over the wound on Fang's right shoulder and the pain disappears. It itches something fierce afterward, like a scar that's in the process of healing, but when she looks it's all healed and not even pink anymore. There's still a scar, but anyone looking at it would've thought she'd gotten it years ago. It lies right above her brand, close to where a wolf got her on her first hunt. If this is the worst she takes away from that fight, she'll take it.

"Better?" Vanille asks, and there's a playful look in her eyes.

"Much," Fang says, and smiles. She reaches up to tuck a strand of Vanille's hair behind her ear.

"Good," Vanille says, and her quick fingers go to unfastening Fang's clothes. "Now let's see the rest of them."

Before they became l'Cie, she might have shrugged it off, because the village didn't have the resources for lesser wounds, and they'd heal. But Vanille's new powers are different; she can heal wounds that would've left them crippled with hardly more than some concentration and a breath, just like Fang can now take blows that would've killed her before and shrug them right off.

Vanille gives her a gentle shove and Fang lies back on the blanket that Vanille spread out, losing herself in the feel of Vanille's fingers on her skin and the cool tingle of magic knitting her wounds together. All the small aches and pains from her exertion are fading away, and it makes her smile when Vanille bends to kiss her better after the magic has already healed her; it's like when they were younger and tending to skinned knees and little cuts.

Vanille lingers over the last injury, one on Fang's hip, long after the wound has faded to nothing and the pain's only a memory, brushing kisses over Fang's skin. Fang reaches down to tip her chin up and smiles; there's nothing in all of Gran Pulse as beautiful as Vanille when she's happy.

"Come here," she says, and tangles her hands in Vanille's hair to pull her close for a kiss. Vanille slides closer enthusiastically, kneeling across Fang's hips and leaning close to nip at Fang's lip.

"We're going to be all right," Fang says, almost more to reassure herself than Vanille.

Vanille grins. "Of course we are, if we work at it." She bends closer and kisses Fang again, and as Fang wraps her arms around Vanille to pull her closer, she starts to believe it.


End file.
